while the music lasts
by fandrastic
Summary: he doesn't understand her. but maybe he was never meant to. freddie & sam


**(blanket disclaimer: the author owns nothing that the reader recognizes)**

my first seddie story. be gentle.

x

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_you are the music, while the music lasts – t.s. eliot_

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-x-

When Fredward Benson first met her, he was ten years old and he was unimpressed.

Carly was lovely and kind and a gentle soul, and Freddie expected her dearest friend to have similar, demure qualities. Instead, he was introduced to Sam.

To be fair, Sam was equally unimpressed with him (_"you're friends with this nub, Carls?"_), and made it known quite early on that she didn't care for him. What was meant to be a harmless play date turned into a blood bath. At least, that's what his mother mumbled over and over as she bandaged up his scrapes and bruises.

But if there was one thing Freddie Benson was instilled with, it was the will to never give up. So the next time he saw Sam over at Carly's apartment, he wore elbow pads and shin guards. He was rewarded with a nod of acceptance from the blonde (_and the smallest glimmer of respect_), before she sucker punched him in the gut.

-x-

When he was fourteen, the greatest _and_ the worst thing happened to him: he volunteered to be the producer for (_Sam and_) Carly's web show.

Through this, he was able to see Carly all the time outside of school. Unfortunately, the same went for Sam. She haunted the eighth floor of Bushwell Plaza like she owned the place (_Carly loved her like a sister and Spencer found her endlessly amusing so Freddie's pleas of "She's pure evil!" never worked on them_).

He wasn't always the one to start the arguments between them—in fact, he rarely did. Sam was an expert at goading him (_she always knew which buttons to press, and how hard to press them_) and Freddie merely retaliated. She picked on him so often that he figured that she had to enjoy it _somehow_; why else would she seemingly plan her life around making him miserable?

Carly (_and iCarly_) was what they had in common. Other than that, they didn't have much to go on. But as the show went on and high school continued, Freddie found himself working alone with Sam for extra clips for the site (_"Shh! You'll wake Spencer too early, dork!"_), and found that he didn't mind it too much. And then he made the mistake of telling her this, and she gave him the strangest look before tripping him down the stairs in the loft.

-x-

About halfway through his fifteenth year, she ruined his life (_"Freddie's… never kissed a girl!"_).

He wanted to die.

He wanted to strangle that cursed blonde with his bare hands. He wanted time to stop, or to go backwards or _something_, something other than this, than reality. But the camera was still rolling (_in his hands, no less, the show must go on!_) and all he could do was run.

Carly practically disowned Sam, lamenting over and over and over how she ruined his life. Of course, the only reason Freddie knew of this was because Gibby played spy for him as he stayed locked in his apartment for the duration of the week (_away from the aftermath of that demon's words_).

But just as quickly as she ruined his life, she fixed it up (_not like brand new, but pretty decent_) with a harsh threat and honest words over thousands upon thousands of computer screens. And then she apologized to his face—something he'd _never_ witnessed before.

And then the air between them grew heavy with unspoken words and undecipherable looks and she _kissed _him. Well, they kissed together, and even though his hands were glued to his sides (_she'd definitely kill him if he touched her—did he even want to?_) and he was pretty sure that her eyes were open, it was a real, actual kiss.

She had never been a girl to him; not really, she'd always been just _Sam._ Carly had always represented the epitome of feminine grace to him (_and oh, how he pined for her_), but when he kissed Sam (_they kissed_), it didn't matter that she was the one with the sharp comebacks and the patterned layers—she was his first kiss and there was no replacing that.

-x-

He wasn't in love with _her_. He turned seventeen and he knew he wasn't.

He just didn't think he was in love with Carly anymore.

Carly grew even more beautiful and intelligent and clever, but she wasn't what he wanted anymore. Because for all of Carly's beauty and precociousness, a relationship with her would be far too safe and comfortable for his liking. He had been around Sam too long (_though he wasn't in love with her_) and safe slowly became synonymous with boring.

That didn't mean that it didn't irk him when the two girls talked about boys in front of him (_why couldn't they talk about something he was interested in?_), because it was still grating on his nerves.

It was just that they always picked out such losers to date (_why couldn't Sam see that her boyfriend was trouble?_). He oftentimes regretted being best friends with two girls.

He made the error of mumbling that too loudly during rehearsal once, and didn't see the jab headed towards his kidneys because Sam's uncharacteristic smile distracted him.

(_but he wasn't in love with her._)

-x-

He was in love with her.

He was eighteen and just finished with high school and he _loved_ her, loved the girl who made his life hell on earth.

But she was in a casual relationship with some loser who didn't deserve someone as vibrant and alive as she was, and Freddie didn't know what to do to make her see (_that he was right in front of her_).

She'd kill him if he ever worked up the courage to tell the truth about his affections. Carly already had an inkling (_she was so sneakily clever_) and Spencer had known since they were kids (_at least that's what he claimed_) and they both encouraged him to admit what he felt for her… to her.

His mother pretended that it was all just a bad, bad dream.

He was leaving for Stanford in a week when he finally worked up the nerve to tell her, after consulting a lengthy pro-con list his kept hidden under his pillow (_con: she could say she doesn't love me, pro: she could say she does_).

They were on the fire escape (_he wanted to punch himself for being so stupidly sentimental_) and the words rushed out in a horribly awkward jumble. He could hear her boyfriend's motorcycle idling eight stories below and she gave him look that froze him in place (_her eyes looked so sad_).

She stomped as hard as she could on his foot and glared at him (_were those tears in her eyes?_) before kissing him hard, desperately (_a kiss filled with everything he hadn't realized he'd been missing_).

She pulled away just as fast (_"your timing really sucks, Benson"_) before she bolted away, no doubt eight stories below to where her boyfriend was waiting.

And a week later he left for Stanford.

He didn't understand it (_why she kissed him, why she left_), but maybe he was never meant to.

-x-

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let me know what you think. :)

(special thanks to **lovelyMESS **who inspired and encouraged me to write this pairing)

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